The Plight of the Sunpire
by Phrost Foenix
Summary: (Has a bit of WoW influence, but I'll try to keep that to minimum.) Humanity has overused the Earth, polluting it and making it unsupportable for the billions of humans who lived on it. The Earth's ecosystem collapsed, and people were driven nearly extinct. This takes place about 400 years after the fall of man.
1. The Dawning of the Day

Year: AW 392

Nearly four centuries have passed since the Earth experienced the Great Cataclysm. That event was the single darkest period in recorded history. The human race nearly died out. Only a few small groups of survivors were left. Civilization was utterly destroyed, and people were reduced to scavenging food like rats. No one, not even the most prominent historians, could remember what exactly caused the event, but most people agree that it wasn't a natural disaster. Something, or someone caused it, and all live in fear of reliving the horror their ancestors lived. Nevertheless, life goes on, even in a world torn by destruction. Small communities have flourished, in tune with the wild nature they live in, the nature that grew when it sensed that humanity no longer had a stranglehold on the Earth. These communities, little more than decrepit villages and run-down towns, learned to coexist with the hostile environment that expanded after the fall of man. Nearly all of the world became covered in nature, as it was millennia ago. This story centers around one certain boy who lives in the village of Farside, located near the base of the Dendrow Mountains. These mountains are feared by most, for all in the village believe the Great Cataclysm started in those stone peaks.

Part 1: Rise and Shine

ΘΘΘ

All was quiet in Southside. The dark sky was filled with crystal stars that shimmered as they danced their way west. Night started her domain a candle and a half ago, and dawn was near at hand, with faint light just outlining the peaks of the Dendrow Mountains. Near the edge of the village, though, light already shone through the windows of a smithy, as if some long forgotten god was crafting the very sun that was to be set in the sky that day.

Hollow ringing rang rhythmically out from the building. The light inside seemed to die out, even as the sky grew light. The door slowly creaked open, and someone came out. The figure that strolled out could hardly be called a man, but neither could he be called a boy, having seen sixteen summers and winters pass before him. His eyes, myriad in color, squinted towards the eastern horizon, as if he was checking his creation for faults. The sun seemed to notice his attention, and finally pulled herself over the lip of the world, dispelling the darkness that night had created in the Sunspire Plains. The teen grimaced, scratching the mess of hair he had, and shuffled back inside the shop, muttering to himself. The clanging renewed itself with vigour, as the sun continued her journey over the sky. She was directly overhead when a person trudged down the dirt path toward the smithy. An aged man he was, of forty summers or so, with stubble on his chin and strength in his arms. He wore a blacksmith's apron, and carried with him a box full of broken metal objects, all of which seemed to be in need of a good scrubbing. He trekked up to the door and beat upon it with a pan, which let off a respectable amount of rust flakes. The door opened once more, and the youth stepped back to allow the man entrance.

"What have you this time, Jorel?" asked the youth.

"Not much for the scrap 'eap, Tobias, most o' these 'ere pots are fixable, most from Westside village, on the other side o' the plains. Some o' the pans we can 'elp out the owners by meltin' 'em down and reforgin' 'em. This 'ere pair o' shears and this knife are worthless, 'ere you go."

Jorel handed Tobias the knife, which was broken halfway down the hilt, and the shears, which were iron, but rusted beyond use. Tobias set them aside and began working on the most decrepit looking pot in the box, shaping out the dents and divets.

"'Ow long yeh been 'ere?" grumbled Jorel.

Tobias looked the counter next to him. On it was the remains of a candle, now unlit, which was halfway used. "About three hours. Woke up early, so I decided to come down here and work."

Jorel went to the forge and threw the pans he would melt into a large bin, produced some tools from his apron, brushed some dust off of them, and set them on his anvil. It was then that he noticed a metal object in the water trough, and trudged over to it. A steel tang was sticking out of the water. He pulled out the rod, revealing a crossguard that formed the base of a sharp steel blade.

"Tobias, what'n Sam's name is this?" he inquired.

He looked down the hilt from tang to tip, then gingerly fingered the edge.

"It's my new sword," said Tobias. He looked down and continued hammering at the pot.

"Remember how the Dendrow gremlins stole my last one on my most recent hike towards the mountains?" he asked.

"Aye," Jorel replied. "'Ow could I forget? That blade was one o' me finest works. Put me heart 'n' soul in it, I did. Still aches whenever yeh mention it, not least because I always tell yeh to be careful 'round those parts." He sighed, then asked, "'Ow long ago d'you start workin' with it? Where'd yeh get this much steel teh work with? And 'ow come I didn't see it up till now?"

Tobias rolled his eyes. "One at a time, dad. In that order, about three weeks ago. I'm nearly done, just need the grip and the rainguard from Leathermaster Tarken. He should be done with them before lunch. To answer your second, I found a nice iron deposit near Deadman's Drop, about two months ago, at the foot of the mountains. Been using it ever since. Also, I wanted to see how well I could forge things on my own without help or advice," Tobias set down the newly shaped pot and reached for a new one.

Suddenly, raucous laughter rang out, nearly as piercing as the hammerfalls of the youth. Tobias swung around and beheld Jorel, bent over in mirth, clutching his belly.

Tobias yelled, "What's wrong?", but Jorel didn't even pause in his laughter.

He laughed until his eyes were swimming, until he was gasping for breath, and then he laughed some more. He finally wiped his eyes and turned, still chuckling, to Tobias, who was watching him with the air of someone who fears that they'd have to fetch the doctor.

"Wha's wrong?" He cackled. "Nothin's wrong, ma' boy, unless you count a great weaponsmith in the makin' a problem!" He burst out laughing again. "Ah, ma' boy, what a fine smith you'll make. Finally, I 'ave someone worthwhile to keep the shop when I'm gone." He walked over, sword in hand, and put Tobias in a headlock, shaking him around.

"I thought it was pretty good for my first try," Tobias called out from Jorel's bicep.

"So it is, Toby, so it is," he replied. "Tell yeh what, Toby, let's go get yer leather and finish this fine beauty. How'd yuh like to rest easy fer today? These pots can wait, Westside's a three day journey anyway. Let's go to the tannin' vats."

With this, Jorel walked toward the door, with a spring in his step. The years seemed to fade off him, and he appeared much younger. He led the way towards Tarken's house. The village was now fully awake, with people walking to and fro. The pair greeted everyone they met, having brief conversations before heading off towards the south part of the village. Most of the young girls were rather giggly around Tobias, but he didn't seem to notice. They came to a large wooden building, bereft of any distinguishing features, save for a small front yard. Jorel walked up the cobbled path and knocked on the door.

A voice, high and clear, answered, "Who goes there?"

Tobias called out, "Open the door, Nelliel, who else could it be?" At this response, the door flew open, and a young woman stepped out. No less than fifteen summers had she seen, with fair brown hair neatly combed.

"Oh, _do_ shut up, Toby," she mocked. "You here for your leathers? My father's done with them. Here, I'll go get him." She went to the back of the store, where what sounded like an argument arose between her and another person. The argument ended with a heavy slap, accompanied by a grunt of pain.

"Ow! Okay, okay, Nel, have it your way." Nel reappeared, grinning, with Tobias' requested items, along with her father, who was rubbing that back of his head.

"Tarken!" boomed Jorel. "It's been ages! How yeh been? How's the store? I see Nel's still the one in charge, no doubt about it," he chuckled.

"Father told me to charge you six silvers. I remember he said four and fifty coppers when Jorel came in two weeks ago." She rolled her eyes at her father.

"Oh ho, trying to steal me money now, are yeh, Tarken?" scolded Jorel, with a smile.

"No no, Jorel, just trying to keep the business alive." replied Tarken with a sheepish grin. "You know how it goes."

"I know how it goes alright," muttered Tobias. "Tell you what. Since you wanted six silvers, and you charged four and a half, I'll give you six and a fourth." Tobias pulled out a bag of cloth and counted the coins. "Fair?" He asked.

Tarken grinned. "Fair enough." He reached for the coins.

Tobias quickly withdrew his hand. "Not yet," he said with a smile. "This extra money is to be used on Nelliel. She'll be sixteen in two days. Also, the rest of the funds will cover mine and Nelliel's expenses at the Founding Festival. It's tomorrow. Got it?"

Tarken smiled sheepishly again. "Got it."

Jorel clapped his hands together and said, "Well, the rest o' the day's yours, Toby." He turned to Nelliel. "Me and your ole' man have got some catchin' up to do. Feel free to go run around with me boy if you want, but don't do anything funny," he said with a wink.

Nelliel turned red at this. "Mr. Greatsmith..." she started to protest, but Tobias took her by the shoulder and dragged her towards the door. "Bye dad," was the last thing Jorel heard before the door shut. He turned towards Tarken.

"I swear, those two're gettin' more awkward 'round each other every day," chuckled Jorel. Tarken joined in, slapping the blacksmith on the back.

"Shall we go to the tavern, old friend?"

"Sure, why not? But remember, you're the one with the money now." Tarken's expression faded as Jorel let out another laugh.

ΘΘΘ

Tobias and Nel headed back towards the smithy, talking about anything that came to mind. Eventually the topic shifted to Nel's birthday.

"Watcha gonna do for your special day?" asked Tobias.

Nel's eyes narrowed. "Hopefully, dad doesn't get any ideas."

Tobias grinned as he remembered her "special day" two years ago. Nel had just graduated from school (all children finish school at fourteen, mainly because there isn't much to learn besides numbers, letters, how the community runs, and how important all the different types of professions are) and had chosen to follow in her father's footsteps and become a leatherworker. Her dad was so happy with her decision he decided to surprise her by making her a set of leather clothes for her to wear on her birthday. To make a long story short, the clothes didn't fit, since Tarken neglected to actually measure out his daughter, and Nel ended up walking around looking like she was drowning in fabric. Her recent growth spurt, however, seemed to take the clothes in mind, and now, almost two years later, the clothes fit her perfectly. She used it as a hunting smock now and again, whenever her father ran low on animal skins.

Nel turned, with a light in her eyes, towards Tobias, saying, "My dad's running low on skins again. How 'bout we go catch some rabbits and cook them?"

Tobias grimaced. "I don't like killing small fry, and you know the forest doesn't like us killing innocent creatures. We'd be better off killing some rabid wolves or maybe a bear."

"Fine," Nel commented as she rolled her eyes. "I was hoping for some rabbit meat, but bear sounds good too. I'll go get my dad's bow," she said as she turned back towards the village.

"No need, Nel. I got a little something for you. Found it near the mountains." Nel shivered at the mention of them. She still remembered her grandfather's stories about when he was a young ranger, which always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping death, be it from gremlins, worgs, or cliff sides. Nel didn't care about the method, she just cared about staying alive, and away from those ominous peaks.

"What did you find?"

Tobias chuckled. "Now that would be telling, wouldn't it?"

Nel crossed her arms and pouted. This made Tobias laugh all the more.

"Don't worry Nel, we're almost there." With that, he veered left, off the path towards the smithy. They were now heading to the edge of the forest.

"What I found isn't like anything I've ever seen," he explained. "At first I thought it was an oddly shaped club, but the grip didn't make it easy to club with. It had a long metal tube that was open on one end, although you could open it from the back too. At the bottom, er, well, it looks like the bottom, although I could be holding it upside-down... Ack, it's easier to explain when you see it. Here we are."

Nel looked around. The field they were walking through was ending. The edge of the forest was barely twenty feet before them. A stream, so clear one could see the bottom, flowed out of the forest, towards the village. Being this near the wild forest made Nel uncomfortable. Strange things were said to happen in Forests of Dendrow. Many of the rangers, men and women who scouted the wilderness for food, went into the forest, and never came back out. Still, she couldn't see anything unusual or dangerous at the moment.

"Where is it?" she whispered, unable to keep a slight tremor out of her voice. The forest seemed to close in on the sound of her voice, as if it was challenging her with a silent call of its own. With a start, she realized Tobias was nowhere in sight.

"Tobias!" she whispered. The forest itself seemed to answer, and the wind in her ears almost seemed to speak. _Leave this place at once,_ it whispered. "Tobias!" she called. The oppressive feeling she sensed grew. "C'mon, this isn't funny!"

"Over here!" called Tobias. His voice called from her left. She walked tentatively forward, stumbling to a run after she heard an owl hoot. She found him facing away from her, shooing a bird away from a bush. The bird, a red-tail hawk, took off, and alighted on her nose, causing her to flinch. The bird, little more than an fledgling, took off once more, and landed on her again, this time on her ear. It tilted its head at her and squawked.

"U-um, Tobias, I have n-nature on my ear..." she quavered.

Tobias laughed, without turning around. "Looks like Featherweight likes you." He gave a series of whistles, and the bird left Nel's ear and alighted on the top of his head. He appeared to be done with whatever he was doing with the bush, getting up and turning around. Nel had to stifle a giggle at Tobias' appearance. He looked as if he had found a colorful hat. Well, one that lived and breathed, anyways.

"Here it is." Tobias said, with an air of someone showing a great wonder. It was then that she noticed what Tobias was talking about. What he had in his hands didn't look like anything she had ever seen. The metal tube ended in a grip, with a small curved metal bar encompassing a small metal rod. There was a slightly curved metal rectangle near the back.

"It's... different." Nel dubiously stated. "Do you know what it does? Why did you tell me I didn't need a bow? Even if I throw it as hard as I can, it won't go very far."

Tobias' expression changed from reverent to sly, although his headgear slightly marred his mysterious air. He pointed the open end of the tube towards the other end of the field. At the other end was a broken down wooden fence that marked the end of the village farms.

"See that fencepost over there?" said Tobias. "The closest one," he added.

Nel shaded her eyes. "Yeah, I see it."

"How far d'you think it is?"

Nel paused. "I don't know, maybe twenty fathoms (about two hundred and forty feet)... Seems pretty far, what're you gonna do?"

"Just watch," With that, Tobias looked down the metal tube, as if aiming the open end directly at the post. He took a deep breath, and squeezed the small rod.

Several things happened at once. A loud bang issued from the contraption, which frightened Nel, causing her to slip and fall on the ground. The fencepost popped out of existence, with Featherweight squawking protest to the noise, flapping off of Tobias' head and fluttering down to Nel's, who was still lying flat on the ground. With the feeling of Featherweight on her head, she abruptly sat up.

"Get off me!" she wailed as she shook her head vigourously. Featherweight didn't even seem to notice her shaking. Nel sighed. She shifted her attention, glaring at Tobias. "Why'd you do that for? What's wrong with you and loud noises, anyways?"

Tobias smirked. "Look at the post, " he shot back.

Nel looked over. "Where'd it go?"

Tobias smirked deepened. "Let's have a look." He started walking towards the general direction of the post. While they were walking, he took out a compartment from the back of the tube. The box was hollow, with long rounded metal pellets filling it.

"I don't know exactly how, but whenever I pull this trigger, the tube shoots out one of these, kind of like a slingshot, except much stronger and faster. Have a look." Tobias pointed towards the ground, and Nel saw that was the spot where the post was, but all that was left was a few splinters here and there.

"Wow..." was all Nel could say. They started heading back to Tobias' hiding bush.

"Yeah, the first time I used it, I thought lightning came down from the sky. I don't need it, because I don't really hunt. That's more your style. You can have it if you want." He flipped it so the tube was pointing away from either of them and presented it to her.

Nel hesitated. "Uh, I don't think I'd, you know, want something like that. I'm already comfortable with a bow, and plus, that loud noise will just scare away the animals."

Tobias shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said. He covered the metal marvel with some mosses. "So, we're gonna go get your bow?"

"Y... yeah."

"Mkay..."

ΘΘΘ

The sun was near the horizon when the pair returned to the village, with Featherweight resting on Tobias' shoulder. Both Tobias and Nel were burdened with the weight of two wolves' meat and pelts, and with a pair of rabbits the wolves had caught before Nel and Tobias had found them. The two had skinned the animals as soon as they had caught them, and both were content with that day's work. They visited the slaughterhouse, dropping off the meat for the festival later that evening. Nine full silvers they were paid, though the rabbits were only half a silver each.

"Ready for the bonfire?" chirped Nel. She had ran home and changed into her best jeans, which were old, faded, and torn. She wore a simple black t-shirt with the words 'Keep Calm and Wear Leather' ironed on it.

"More or less," stated Tobias. He had changed to a grey jacket with numerous pockets, all of which had hidden secrets inside, and simple jeans, just like Nel's. His shirt, also black, had words on it, just like Nel's. The words read 'Strike it While it's Hot'.

"Still can't believe the mayor's daughter is finally graduating," said Nel. "Wonder what profession Natalie will choose..."

Tobias scoffed. "Knowing her, she'll probably choose something to do with jewels. Can't get her mind off of them."

"Yeah," Nel said, "Unless you're around, then her minds on more than jewels."

Tobias mouth twitched into a grin. "Don't push it, Leatherface. I could have easily left you to the wolves today, don't make me regret it."

Nel slugged him in the shoulder. "Yeah, whatever. Stop acting like you're the only one that can handle being out there."

"Alrighty then, Miss I Get Scared By Loud Noises," mocked Tobias as he raised his hands in a defensive gesture. Nel slugged him again.

All of a sudden, the two were caught up in a crowd that was heading towards the village center. The festival was starting. It was a very important day, for two reasons. Since the next-in-line to be mayor of the village was to choose a profession, which will decide the economic direction Southside would take in regards to the other communities, everyone was excited to see what the mayor's daughter would choose. That day was also the anniversary of the founding of Southside, which took place exactly two hundred and fifty years prior. The Founding Festival, as it was called, was the biggest celebration of the year, and everyone in Southside attended. Even people from other communities, like Westside, which was located on the other side of the mountains, at the shores of the Sundering Sea, Northside, which was located in the frozen wastes of the Frostblood Tundras, and Eastside, built on the lowest peak of the Dendrow Mountains. Most years, both villages sent nearly everyone to the festival, leaving only those necessary to protect the food storehouses.

While the crowd continued towards the town center, everyone started looking for familiar faces. Old faces crinkled in the joy of meeting those they knew, young ones stretched into laughter, and as the crowd dispersed, Tobias and Nel met the other teens. All of the out-of-town teens were either from Northside or Westside, since Eastside wasn't really seen as a safe place for young people. It was mostly populated with aged, experienced miners, since the only mine rich in ore was near Eastside.

As the festival started, Nel and Tobias began to look for the usual booths, like the 'duck hunt' dart shooter, and the ring toss, among others. They walked around, enjoying themselves with their fellow teens. Night had fallen, and most of the party-goers were full from candy and rich food, when Mayor Hitchock announced the final gathering in the bonfire pit in the center of town. Everyone started cleaning up the square, before taking their seats on the wooden benches encircling the ring of stones. Even with the numerous seats, many had to stand, for there was no room. The fire was unlit, and Mayor Hitchock stood in the ashes of last year's festival.

"Welcome all," he said, his deep voice reverberating through the spines of all present. "This day has been anticipated for the longest time. It is with great pride that I announce the two-hundred and fiftieth Founding Festival."

The crowd sounded off their agreement, but quickly quieted. Mayor Hitchock had the gift of keeping a crowd quiet without effort.

"Ardric. Eriad. Noria. Please step forth." Two men and a woman advanced, all apparently held with high prestige, since the crowd clapped and cheered for them until they reached Hitchock.

"My fellow mayors of the Four Sides," said Hitchock, shaking hands with each of the three.

"Always a pleasure, Wallon," said Mayor Ardric Whitewolf, who was from Northside. His hair was tied back in a "warrior's wolftail", and wore a wolf-skin jacket. His hair was shock white, and most people believed it had turned white when he had gotten lost for a week in the northern reaches of the plains, the Frostblood Tundras.

Mayor Eriad Winston just nodded when he was greeted. He was from Westside, and looked like a typical surfer dude. With his swimmer's build, and blonde hair that wreathed his tanned face, he looked like he was built for the beach. His exterior hid a sharp mind, though, and he was publically seen as an intellectual genius.

"Wallon," said the third figure, who was the Mayor of Eastside, Noria Brightfall. Her jet black hair, coupled with her blue eyes lightly flecked with fragments of green, made the men in Eastside do anything she asked. She became mayor at just twenty-two, after her father was killed by gremlins four years hence. She saw Eastside as the first line of defense against anything that could endanger the villages of the Sunspire Plains. As such, she kept a militant air around her at all times, if just to keep people calm.

"Great to see you all again," mumbled Hitchock. Clearing his throat, he addressed the crowd. "My fellow residents of the Sunspire Plains." He paused, clearing his throat.

"Now that the Four Leaders are here, we can commence the Ritual of Renewal. Rise, my fellow Spirians!" Spreading his arms, he commenced the ritual. His voice changed, and he started chanting in a language which sounded old and forgotten, as if the beginning of the world was a symphony, and the Earth herself was being heard. Only a few people could piece together what was being said, Hitchock among them, and those few shared their translations with the other less-enlightened Spirians. The chant grew as the other Leaders added their voices, as well as the crowd. The melody was the story of how the Sunspire Plains came to be populated, and all of the villagers knew the meaning of the words by heart, even if they did not know the words. The meaning of the words was this:

_In a valley far away, in a kingdom in the frost,_

_Lived a full-of-wisdom king, and thus did he accost,_

'_We doth not belong here, nay, we long for open plains,_

_With grassy fields and fertile soil, and sultry summer rains,_

_With no frost near to chill our bones, with not a flake in sight_

_With no winter to freeze the sky, and none of Daren's Blight',_

_And so did King Mithrandus leave his kingdom to his sons_

_And set out to find a new land, second best to none_

_For years he looked and did not find what he thought was lost_

_In the land of all the subjects of the kingdom in the frost_

_When suddenly so far from home, the king had given thought_

_To what he truly looked for, and had found alike of naught_

_And after all the searching for what he thought was lost_

_He knew why he had left his home, his kingdom in the frost_

_And so the—_

Suddenly, a scream erupted from the crowd. A rent in the circle of people formed, extending from the edge to the front row.


	2. Into the Woods

Part 2: Out of the Woods

A towering figure appeared, filthy, haggard, and covered in the growth of the forest. The figure, hunched over as if in great pain, stumbled into the firelight, letting out a growl that echoed across the square. It sounded like Nature herself issued forth a grave threat. The crowd rippled as people panicked, trying to get away from the mysterious figure. The tallest man barely reached the creature's elbow.

"Step no further, creature."

Ardric stepped forth, unsheathing a pale sword that went unnoticed before. His voice, however quiet, frosted the temper of the crowd. All became deathly quiet. Ardric slowly approached the figure, loosely holding Frostbite down and to the side.

"What be your business in fair Southside? Speak quickly and lightly, there be no danger here." Suddenly, concern shone in his eyes of snow.

The creature seemed to croak a response, although what was said couldn't be made out. Slowly, the face tilted upwards. The crowd gasped.

Now that the villagers looked closely, they could see that no matter how large it was, the figure was undeniably human. Few monsters was shaped as such, and those that were did not have the facial features to match. The figure faltered, and pitched forward. Ardric, too late, rushed forward to catch him. The ground shook as the figure settled into the earth.

"Quick, bring me Marda!" Marda, the head healer of Southside, shuffled forward. Both immediately engaged in quiet conversation, which ended shortly.

"This man needs medical attention, and quickly!" Marda pointed to three men. You, you and you! Help me take him to the Healing Houses!" Between the four men and Marda, the giant slowly rose. The moss-covered face slowly shifted, and the eyes, half-lidded, suddenly glinted with the life of the forest. The mouth twitched, and an voice composed of the earth sounded out.

"_Beware, the forest awakens... None are safe..."_

The crowd spasmed, uneasy with the voice caressing them. Nel was crouching with her head on her knees, her hands covering her ears. Tobias fell to one knee, unable to comprehend the being in front of him.

His mouth closed as he fell into blackness once more. Ardric and the others carried him away from the square. As soon as the being left, the crowd burst in activity, demanding to know what just happened.

"What in the Nine Circles of Hell just happened!?"

"Where'd it come from?!"

"What the hell WAS that, that... that THING?!"

"How am I supposed to know?!"

The crowd began to crumble. Small quarrels spread like wildfire.

Suddenly, a sound akin to thunder erupted, ringing in the ears of all present. Everyone winced, crouching for cover. One figure remained erect. Wallon Hitchock stood tall in the ashes, one arm extended to the sky. Lightning crackled through his outstretched fingers. Slowly, he curled them into a fist and lowered his arm.

The crowd did stared, shocked. Hitchock looked askance at two men by his side. The two men stood stock still, not two feet to his left. Both of them had their hair on end. One still had a grip on the other's collar, about to swing. Hitchock narrowed his eyes, lightning popping dangerously. The man dropped his fist, dusting his near-victim off while laughing nervously.

"Good choice, Fandaust. Now, to business." Hitchock relaxed, visibly letting off tension.

"What are you all doing?" His voice had no trace of malice, but the crowd cringed.

"One man covered in moss comes to our celebration, and you lot cannot handle yourselves?" The crowd cringed further. One man called out.

"What WAS that?" Hitchock narrowed his eyes again. "I-I mean, I've never seen anything... like it..." The man trailed off miserably.

Hitchock sighed. "I just told you. That is a man. Covered in moss. How he came to be that way has yet to be discovered." He raised his voice momentarily. "But come now! We shouldn't let one abnormality disrupt our festivities!" The crowd stayed quiet, unsure of themselves. Mayor Brightfall signaled to the minstrels, and music bursted out of decrepit speakers.

'_Space may be the final frontier, but it's made in a Hollywood basement...'_

Slowly, the crowd resumed their business, returning to the fairgrounds. Backwards glances and hidden whispers showed all was not settled, though.

"Be not alarmed, my people. We shall sort all of this tomorrow." Hitchock stepped toward Brightfall and Winston.

"Noria, Eriad. Make sure the people stay content. I need to talk to Ardric. He knows something about this. It's almost as if he's done this before."

Noria snorted and crossed her arms. "Yeah, leave the woman with all the work." Winston grimaced.

Hitchock rolled his eyes. "I mean it. This is a grave matter. The forest continues to overtake our people. We cannot allow this to continue. We NEED to know how that man turned. The forest had him, you saw that. What I don't understand is why he didn't try to kill anyone. They're never this tame. He could help us."

"The main reason we lose people is because we keep sending Rangers into the forest." Noria looked away. "What we need is a new method of survival." She blew at her hair, walking away. "But you're right. He's the first I've seen that hasn't attacked on sight, at least." Winston grimaced deeper, piercing Hitchock with his steady gaze before turning to follow her. Hitchock stood there, frowning at the ground, until he turned towards the Healing Houses.

ΘΘΘ

"Hey. Nel." Tobias nudged her shoulder. "Nel, it's okay. He's gone."

Nel didn't move. "Nel, c'mon. We gotta go."

She uttered something, high-pitched and frightened, but she stayed still. Tobias sighed. He picked her up, bridal style, and started heading towards Tarken's house.

Nel murmured something against Tobias' neck.

"Huh?" Tobias looked down towards her.

"I... I..."

"Yeah?"

"... He... He sounded like... like my..." She looked up, staring at him.

"Mmph... He died, right?" He looked down, staring back. "In the forest?"

"Y-yeah... Just like your..." She trailed off.

"Who knows, maybe he's back." Tobias chuckled.

Nel hid her face. "That's not funny... But I don't know..."

"Sorry." Tobias shivered.

"Hey, you two." Tobias stopped, looking up. Ardric was in front of them. "You're Tobias and Nelliel, right?"

"Yeah," replied Tobias.

"Come with me. Your fathers are already at the Healing Houses."

"What?"

"Follow."

Nel spoke up. "Um, I think I can walk now, Tobias."

"Mkay..." Tobias set her down. She stumbled a bit, then leaned on Tobias for support.

And the three walked forward, towards the north of the village.

ΘΘΘ

They arrived shortly, to an awkward scene. Tarken had his head buried in his hands, and Jorel sat next to him, stiffly patting his back.

"Tarken," said Ardric. He looked up. Nel spasmed. Tarken looked like he had aged decades since the commotion at the square. Jorel grimaced.

"Dad..." Nel stepped forward, then faltered, afraid. Tarken smiled mirthlessly.

"He's waiting for you." Tarken's smile turned into a grimace. "Not a word for me. No, he only wants to see you, Nel. Only you."

"W... what?" Nel's eyes were wide with fear.

"Him. Your grandfather. He's calling for you." Nel had no response to that. Tarken stood up and grasped her hand.

"C'mon."

They walked forward together. Nel looked back, pleading silently. Tobias and Jorel followed her. Ardric brought up the rear. Tobias didn't know what to do. He didn't even know what was going on. Whenever a Ranger disappeared, they were believed to be dead. Physical evidence was never found, but people were willing to accept the fact that lost Rangers just disappeared. Lost Rangers certainly never came back. They stopped at a metal door marked with the number 1. Conversation could be heard through the door. Tarken lifted his hand, halted, then opened the door.

The open door revealed a large room. Hitchock was speaking, asking questions to a gigantic figure on an oversized bed. As the door opened, Hitchock paused, slowly rising from the stool next to the bed. His gaze, soft but unwavering, settled on Nel. He moved away from the seat, beckoning to Nel. She trembled, and walked forward unsteadily. To her, it seemed an eternity before she got to the stool. She settled into the chair, restlessness causing her to lean forward. The figure in the bed slowly moved, and his hair rustled, reminiscent of newly grown grass. His face turned towards Nel. There could be no mistake now.

"Grandpa..?" Nel's voice quavered. The forest-face stretched into a smile. His mouth opened, and the earth replied.

"_Hey there, Nel. How've you been?"_

Tobias could've listened to that voice for centuries and still not have it figured out. It felt like Nature herself was talking.

"Uh... um," Nel stammered. Her hands were shaking. Tarken stood in the background with an unreadable expression, arms crossed. The forest-man shifted, sitting upwards. His hands came down, resting on Nel's. Her hands stopped shaking. She looked up, up into those bottomless eyes. She couldn't place the feeling those eyes gave her. If she had to express it, she would have said that she felt as if everything that ever existed was staring at her, staring through those eyes that could contain the universe if they wanted to. Still, behind all of the worlds, the fathomlessness in those eyes, she could sense the alacrity of her grandfather. She could tell, just by the shine behind the worlds in those eyes, that he was her grandfather.

"_You can stop staring now, Nel."_

She jerked, then averted her gaze.

Tarmalen Rothweave was always a cheerful man, ready with a smile for anyone who happened upon him. That didn't change now. As Nel looked down, his smile grew all the wider. A soft sound, like creaking wood, echoed around the room. Nel recognized it as her grandfather's chuckling.

"_I know I look different, Nel. Believe me, I still hardly believe it when I see my reflection."_

Nel trembled. "I know it's you, Grandpa. I... I thought you were-"

"_Dead. I know." _Nel looked down again._ "All lost Rangers are presumed so. But I came back. I'm alright now, though. All I needed was water," _he chuckled.

It was at this point that Hitchock spoke up. His deep, clear voice resonated throughout the room. "Why have you come, Tarmalen?" Hitchock frowned. "Are there others such as yourself? Has the forest... What is your business here?"

Tarmalen shifted his attention towards Hitchock. Slowly, he began to speak.

"_The forest has shown me many things, Hitchock. Nature has existed far before us, and she will endure far after the earth has forgotten how we tread on her." _He closed his eyes briefly, before resuming. _"I shall not lie. The forest did send me. But not for the reasons you nurse in your mind."_

"How come you can control yourself?" Ardric put in from the corner of the room. He was gazing out the window. "Of all the Possessed humans I've ever seen, you are by far the calmest. Most are bloodthirsty creatures, hungry for death. We have to kill them, all of them, on the spot, before they kill us." Nel made a choking sound. "How come you are not?"

"_Have you ever seen something so pure, so clean and untainted, that it would break you to see it ruined?"_

Ardric did not answer.

"_That is the reason. Imagine eons ago, when man still had not found his way into existence, when Nature was still young. She lived undisturbed, and all her children frolicked in her domain. Then came man, with his bright steel and burning tongues of flame, to ruin her kingdom. She still had not the will to awaken and defend herself. You know this history, Ardric."_

Ardric remained silent.

"_Nature did not understand the way of man. She had strived for time uncounted to make the earth perfect for her children. Then man, in a trifling amount of time, turned all her work to ash. You know this as well, Hitchock. It is recorded in the Books of Reasoning." _

Hitchock looked up. "Yes. I know." He rubbed his eyes with one hand. "In those books is the mistakes and faults of the generation before the Fall of Man. In those books lies the reason of our near extinction. They are our warning, as well as the reason we live the way we live. It reveals the greatest mistake Man ever made. Man warred for the dwindling resources the earth had to provide. In the end, after the greatest powers of the world prepared for the end, the earth awakened. Her wrath was indiscriminate. Only a few survivors remained. Thereafter, she began to Possess people. We try to keep that as discreet as we can, for obvious reasons." His shoulders twitched. "Unnecessary panic. Rash decisions. Choices we can't take back. So we tell the public that the Possessed get lost. That they disappear into the forest. The majority are Rangers, and most Rangers decide to become one because they have nothing left in their life. Most."

Tarmalen nodded at this.

"Ever since, the forest has actively tried to wipe us out. Monsters roam freely under her boughs. The trees themselves try to destroy us. It's a miracle we're alive."

Tarmalen sighed. _"That contains only a sliver of truth. The forest is not a mindless monster. She knows the hearts of those who will leave her be, and those who wish only to harm her. She tries to share her knowledge with us, but we only see the death and destruction we have caused. It drives the newborns mad, and they cannot contain their rage. Still, there are a few that understand her purpose. A few such as myself. But it is a woefully small amount, and she tries continually to swell our numbers. Thus far, your Fourside villages have not done anything untoward. She shall not harm you."_

"What about you!?" burst out Nel. Tarmalen raised his eyebrows at her. "What happened to you?! You weren't... when you left..." She trailed off, lowering her head.

Tobias put his hand on her shoulder, speaking up. "I think what she means to say is; what about all the Rangers the forest has taken that are still alive? All the friends we thought we lost. How many are there? You explained that sh-, the forest, doesn't manipulate the... newborns, on purpose. Make them bloodthirsty, I mean. But what is she trying to do?"

Tarmalen grimaced. _"Straight to the point as always, Tobias." _Tobias shuddered at the sound of his voice, but held his ground. Tarmalen's eyes unfocused, and he leaned back into the wall.

"_The spirit of the forest... She has a name, you know," _he continued, eyes half-lidded. _"Her name is not akin to your... our names, however... The names she gives us at birth express everything we are, both our thoughts and our actions. Her true name would take far too long to recite... The name she gives us for her is Leafsong." _

He paused. _"The name she gave me is long as well. The part most recognizable to you would be this: Mirthheart."_ His hand rose from the sheets, cupping Nel's cheek. The palm alone was large enough to cover her entire face.

"_In a way, she is in debt of the leaders of the human race before it fell into ruin. Without the waste of the wars, she would have never awakened. The being she is now..." _Suddenly, the worlds in his eyes awakened. He jerked forward, bringing both hands up to surround Nel's face. She started, and Tarken leaped forward. One glance into the depths of Tarmalen's eyes, however, and he stopped, though he did not lower his fists.

"_Nelliel." _Her name rang inside her ears. _"Leafsong gave me an important task. She told me to bring you to her. She has need of you."_

Silence declared its victory over the room. None spoke. Then...

"W-what?" Both Nel and Tarken stammered. Nel's mouth hung open silently, but Tarken continued to speak.

"What kind of shit mindgames are you trying to play?"

Tarmalen raised his eyebrows.

"You disappeared. Into the forest. And all this time, you could've come back. All these years passed, and you didn't even give us a sign that you were alive."

Tarmalen's eyes tightened. "Tarken-"

"_No. NO! HERE YOU ARE, FRESH OUT OF THE GODDAMN FOREST, WEARING NATURE ON YOUR FRICKIN' FACE, ALIVE EVEN THOUGH YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD! I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!"_

Tarken raised his arms. "You come back, happy as can be, not thinking about what you put us through, and now you're saying you're taking Nel back into that damn forest with you?! WHO THE F-" he paused. He hunched over, hand covering his face. His body shook.

"Tarken..."

Slowly, he straightened up again. A fierce light shone in his eyes. His voice was soft, but anger radiated through it.

"Who do you think you are? You left this village behind, left US behind, Dad. You could've come back years ago. Decades ago. Now that you do, you want to disappear again, with my daughter this time? No, Dad. Wake up. Nel isn't going anywhere. You, however, you can leave whenever you want." Tarken stared into his father's eyes.

Tarmalen stared right back. _"You do not have a choice. The for-"_

"FUCK YOUR FOREST! YOU CAN GO BACK TO HER AND TELL HER TO GO SCREW HERSELF! I DON'T CARE WHAT SHE 'NEEDS', NEL ISN'T GOI-" He stopped. Nel had stood up, and in her position, she came in between her Tarken and Tarmalen. She murmured something unintelligible.

"What?" inquired Tarken. Nel raised her head. Her eyes were clear, no trace of fear in them.

"I... I don't want to go..."

Silence returned.

"_Nel..."_ Tarmalen was taken aback.

"Listen. If what you say is true, then this 'Leafsong' wants to turn me into one of you. And I know I don't want that to happen to me. I don't want to go."

Tobias spoke up. "I don't care _what_ she wants to do with Nel, I'm not going to let that happen either."

"_Nelliel..._"

"I'm sorry, Grandpa... I know you would never do anything to hurt me, but I don't want to do this. I'm sorry..."

"_Nelliel,"_ sighed Tarmalen, _"you don't understand. You do not have a choice. Leafsong has chosen you. You cannot deny her."_

"Like hell she can't," uttered Tarken. "I think you've said enough, Dad. We're leaving." Nel and Tarken started towards the door.

Suddenly, an oppressive feeling gripped the room.

"_You do not understand, my son. You do not have a choice." _Tarmalen had gotten out of the bed, and he stood almost as tall as the ceiling. _"Leafsong has commanded it. What do you think she'll do if I return without Nelliel? Simply give up? No, my son, no. She will have Nelliel." _With that, Tarmalen started towards Tarken.

Ardric moved quickly, blocking his path. Frost coated his hands as the room temperature dropped rapidly. "Please, Tarmalen. You and I both know you're smarter than this. Leave peacefully, and you may yet live." He turned towards the rest of the group. "Hitchock, take these four out of here." Hitchock nodded as they started towards the door. Vines grew out of the ground, blocking the exit. They all stared back at the forest-man.

Tarmalen was expressionless. _"You know not the strength of the forest. Give her to me, and you shall not face the wrath of Nature." _Ardric stood his ground, narrowing his eyes.

"_Very well," _Tarmalen whispered.

His arm extended towards Ardric, splitting into multiple vines. Ardric raised his left arm, and a beam of frost shot out to meet them. The vines halted momentarily, becoming encased in ice. The vines broke out of the ice, multiplying as they rushed towards Ardric. They met him, wrapping around him, beginning to crush him. Ardric's expression remained calm as he was lifted off the ground.

Abruptly, a large crack splintered down his face, and then he exploded into a myriad amount of frost fragments, which shot down towards the forest-man. Tarmalen stumbled backwards, narrowly avoiding the shards. His eyes widened as he whirled around. The real Ardric leaned against the wall next the bed, unsheathing his sword.

"Ever had Frostbite, Tarmalen?" He leaped off the wall, rearing back for a downward stroke. Tarmalen brought up his arm to block. It morphed into rough bark. Steel met wood with a heavy sound. The groove cut was deep. Ardric tried to pull out Frostbite, but it stayed wedged into the woodwork. Tarmalen wasn't paying attention. A third appendage grew out of his chest, morphing into a rough copy of a hand. The index and middle fingers splayed out as the rest curled into a fist. The extended fingers jabbed Ardric's abdomen thrice, in a triangular formation, then palmed him lightly in the center of the triangle. Ardric went limp as he fell to earth. He crashed down to the floor and did not move.

"Ardric!" yelled Hitchock. He turned, shocking the door clean off its hinges. "Run!" he barked at the four. His right arm reached for his belt, a large metal hammer appearing with a brilliant crackle of energy. "Don't stop!"

Tarken, Jorel, Nelliel and Tobias ran out of the building, which was strangely devoid of healers. As they reached the front porch, the entire building shook. They glanced back, and as they did, a gigantic bolt of lightning ripped down from heaven, completely demolishing the roof of the third Healing House. The lightning ended as soon as it started. A dark shape shot upwards, landing in front of them. It was much larger than before. Vines extended forward, encircling Nel. She screamed, but it was cut off as the vines closed around her, cocooning her.

"NO!" Tarken and Jorel leapt forward. Tarken looked like a man possessed, kicking and punching at the vines furiously. Another appendage grew from the abdomen, lashing out at Tarken. He flew backwards, crashing through a window. Jorel had picked up a stray metal bar, striking at the head of the beast. More vines grew out, amassing around him as they picked him up. They abruptly smashed downwards, towards the ground. When they withdrew, they left Jorel in a crater in the ground. Jorel lay still.

"Dad!" screamed Tobias. No answer. Something broke within Tobias. With newfound rage, he threw himself at the monster, leaping upwards. It didn't matter that it was nearly thrice as tall as him, he didn't care. As his fist drew back, his anger peaked. Red flames burst out from his shoulder, snaking around his arm. They met just in front of his fist as it crashed into the center of the beast. The beast cried out, screaming in pain. It flew backwards, slamming back into the destroyed Healing House. The cocoon dissolved, revealing Nel.

"Nel!" Tobias rushed forward, all thoughts of battle forgotten. He hooked his arm behind her neck, shaking her lightly. "Wake up, Nel! We gotta go!" No response. "Nel!" Still nothing. With a grunt, he shifted her weight, carrying her bridal style once more. He began to run, not knowing where he was going. He just needed to get Nel away from there.

An inhuman cry rent the night air as the beast picked itself up. A gaping hole, smoking and smoldering, had been ripped through it. Tobias continued to run away from the horrid beast. Even as the monster stood up, the hole started to close. It began to give chase, easily outpacing Tobias as it rumbled forward on all fours.

It lashed out, striking Tobias' legs out from under him. As he flew sideways, he lost his grip on Nel. He crashed into the side of a house as Nel dropped to earth. Her fall was stopped by the vines of Tarmalen. She was cocooned once more.

Tobias landed sitting up, his chin resting on his chest. "No..." Tobias groaned. The edges of his vision were turning black. He could barely lift his head. He tried to get up, but the pain hindered him. He thought his spine was broken. He could only watch as Tarmalen quickly retreated, prize in hand.

"Nelliel..."

He couldn't see anymore. He could only feel the dirt underneath his fingertips shift as he clenched his hand. _So this is what it feels like... To die..._

"Nelliel..."

He slumped over as he fell into darkness, and he knew nothing more.

Just darkness. And void.


End file.
